by Maren Smith
That was enough. Declan took a step forward, but she took a simultaneous step backward with her hand held up as though it would stop him. “Uh, not so fast. I… uh… might need a minute.”
“You know exactly what I expect to be called when we’re in this position, so I suggest you start showing some respect if you expect to sit on that cute little bottom for a few hours.”
Her hands waved furiously in a vain attempt to stop his forward progress as she simultaneously tripped over the ottoman and landed on her ass with a thump on the hardwood floor. “Wait. I…”
“Yeah, I think I’ve waited long enough,” he mumbled as he yanked her off the floor by her wrists. With a single movement, he sat on the edge of the ottoman and pulled her over his knee. “Let’s review what we’ve learned. Most important, naughty little girls learn their lessons this way.” As he spoke, he yanked at the now familiar dress to reveal the intricate rose tattoo and a pair of new panties. Lacy and expensive, the red fabric showcased the impressive curves very nicely. “These are very pretty, but I’m afraid we won’t be needing them anymore.”
“Wait…” Her tone grew more desperate, but her attitude continued to be full of cheek. “You can’t do this. I… I won’t allow it.”
This little submissive was clearly asking for a butt-warming. As if to make her point, her legs gave a giant kick as she tried to corkscrew out of his arms, but the action was quickly cut off by his strong thighs. She thrust one hand to the floor to keep her balance, and probably her dignity, but it was very likely she was only achieving the first of those goals. He knew how to keep a reluctant submissive over his knee. “Stop this. I’m not going to allow this, you jerk,” she screamed loud enough to be heard in the next county.
“You won’t, huh?” he said softly. With a hook of his finger, he yanked at the expensive panties, and they slipped easily to her knees. “They do slide well, so I have to say they are a winner.”
With her spare hand, she attempted to return the lacy clothing to their previous position, but he trapped the offending wrist in his huge grasp. “Now that we are in the proper mindset, would you like to simplify things and start using the tone and proper words of respect we defined earlier?”
Her fiery temper continued to explode. “Fuck this, you bully. I never talked to you about any of this shit. I…”
He didn’t wait for a response and delivered the first of several, very prominent spanks to her white creamy target. “Language, young lady.”
“Stop this,” she shrieked. “I mean, I don’t know…”
Not as sensual as their earlier games, the disciplinary sting was still far short of his full range, but should provide just enough of a reminder to return her beautifully submissive persona. A dozen or so spanks left a nice red imprint on her cheeks before her kicking slowed and her attitude changed dramatically. She begged with a whimper, “Please. I’ll be good. Just… stop…”
“Now I’m seeing a good little girl, but I’ll stop when you remember my name, young lady.”
The little fox clearly hadn’t had enough. Instead of the required answer, she said, “Declan… your name is Declan.” He raised an eyebrow with a patient sigh before he began a much sharper attack, a half dozen, painful reminders of her role when she was over his knee, and she yelped accordingly. “Ouch, fuck that…”
“Wrong answer, pet. I’d get going on this because I can go all day. If my hand gets tired, there’s always my belt…”
“Master,” she interrupted in a panic as his spanking intensified after each misstep. “King… Sire… Duke… Boss… Sir…”
With her last answer, he finally relented. “Much better. I’m proud of you, but that did take a long time.”
Loosening his ironclad grip, he started to rub the warmth into her bottom, but she wiggled until she rolled to the floor in a tangle of clothes and hair. Looking up with those big brown eyes, she mumbled, “Oh, my God. That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever done. I… holy hell. Let’s go to bed.”
Disappointment ran deep. While he appreciated strong women in powerful careers, educated women who could converse in sports, politics, and the economy, independent women who spoke their mind at any other time, he needed a submissive in his bedroom. Their earlier conversations had made him think she was one in a million, but looking at her on the floor, he realized he’d made a mistake. “I think you should turn in. It’s late. I’ve delivered your spanking, and that’s what the auction guaranteed. Besides, I promised you’d get a better night’s sleep tonight. I think we should stop now.”
“You’re kidding, right?” she said incredulously. “I’m not going to be able to sleep. You can’t get me all wound up and stop. I—”
He interrupted with a lift of his chin. “There are brand new vibrators still in the box in all of the bedrooms. I bet a resourceful girl like you can manage just fine. Take one of the big rooms in the front of the house. They have the best view of the lake.”
With a polite nod, he took his bag and left the room, bound and determined to take more time to vet a submissive before he got to know them over a bottle of chardonnay and a roaring fireplace in front of one of the most amazing sunsets he’d ever seen.
Chapter Seven
Declan tossed and turned most of the night until the thin rays of the sun peeked through the heavy curtains a little after six. Generally a morning person, the early hour at one of his most favorite places to be did nothing to start his day with any pleasure. The previous night’s conflict deserved his righteous indignation, but a nagging uncertainty refused to be defeated. His need to talk to her was in no way related to his responsibility as her host. Very simply, he liked her and wanted to see her again. Relationships were hard work, and a single disagreement should never define the parameters surrounding two consenting adults.
There were no noises from the rest of the house, and he assumed she was still asleep. Long after he’d gone to bed, he’d heard her pacing throughout the big house, followed by the muffled sounds of a movie playing in the theater. When a large crash came from the kitchen, however, he’d finally gone downstairs. She was throwing the last pieces of a broken bowl of chili in the garbage when he’d entered the room wearing a pair of soft gray sweatpants. “It’s almost two o’clock in the morning,” he’d scolded. “You’ve been awake for almost twenty-four hours. Go to bed.”
“Fine. Just leave me alone. I’m a grown woman, for God’s sake. I know when to go to sleep.” Two sets of non-blinking eyes had stared at each other during their mini showdown, neither willing to cede their position until he’d taken a growling step forward, and she ran toward the stairs, squealing like a little girl. Other than the door slam that had grated his nerves, he didn’t hear a sound out of her the rest of the night.
But the glorious sunrise peeking over the treetops from the eastern edge of the lake promised a fresh start. He showered quickly and dressed in jeans and a favorite worn shirt from his college years before heading toward the kitchen with the short-term goal of making coffee and maybe heating some scones to have ready when she woke.
Framed by the early sun, her silhouette was outlined on the massive deck overlooking the lake, her dark curly hair resting on her shoulders with a hint of tight jeans and pretty red sneakers peeking from under the plaid woolen blanket that she’d snuggled around her shoulders. He opened the sliding glass door to be greeted by a chilly morning breeze, but she didn’t turn around until she’d given her face a quick wipe. Her forced smile and overly bright eyes betrayed her secret. She’d been crying.
Knowing he was likely at least part of the cause, he walked to her side and offered a guilty smile. “Good morning,” he said softly. She nodded tentatively as though she didn’t totally trust her voice. They stood next to each other for a long few seconds, their gazes focused on the bufflehead ducks playing in the water. “Did you sleep okay?” he asked in a small attempt to break down the barrier between them.
“Not so much, I guess. I fell asleep just fine,
but I woke up around four or so, and I really haven’t been back to sleep since.” Her gentle voice was a welcome change from the previous night’s attitude.
“You need more than a few hours of sleep, but… I’m sorry about last night. I should have had a little more patience. You deserved at least a conversation before I went to bed. Was everything really okay at home? You seemed… tense… when you came back from the camper.”
The overt cringe was a surprise. “No, it’s fine, Declan. I’m sure that… I… played a role in it, too. You have no idea how very sorry I am.”
“I guess I wasn’t sure if all that sass was role-playing, or if you were struggling with what we had. Even the spanking didn’t settle you down, but we hadn’t negotiated anything beyond a little redness. I wasn’t going to betray your trust to do anything else, but I should have talked to you last night and not let both of us stew for hours.”
Her relief was almost transparent as she took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Really. I was tired and…” The next sentence came out in a rush. “Can we just start over this morning, Declan? I want to forget about last night. Let’s pick up where we left off yesterday.”
“It’s hard to forget all that talk about stepping up our relationship. If you think you’re ready, I’m more than willing to bring in a little more spark. I just don’t want to move too fast for you. We have a lot of time today and this doesn’t have to end when we leave here. I’d like to see you again and explore all sorts of kink with you.”
Her blush remained as adorable as it did the day before. “You don’t have to ask me twice. I’m in. Honestly, that’s the only thing I’m confident about. I’m not fragile and I… I’d like to play a little more… seriously. I know there’s a whole room full of equipment in this house and… and… I trust you. I want this.”
Declan grinned as he pulled her a little closer to run his fingers through her hair. He still thought she might be holding out on a problem at home, but this was a good step in the right direction. He’d figure out all of her secrets while they got to know each other in the cabin’s expensive dungeon rooms. “I think I can accommodate that request, little girl.”
Chapter Eight
The previous night had dragged on forever before she’d finally dozed under a musty sleeping bag, but her nightmares had worked overtime to fill in the unknown between Claudia and Declan settled just a few hundred yards away. She’d wakened before sunrise, but the big house was dark as a tomb.
It was after five before a very sleepy Claudia had finally arrived. Claire jumped out of bed and reached for her jeans. “Where the hell have you been? You said you’d be back at two.”
“He sleeps like a cat, for God’s sake,” Claudia had grumbled. “He practically chased me to the bedroom just before I was ready to come out here, and I didn’t dare leave until I was sure he was asleep.”
Claire tried to look disinterested as she aimlessly picked at an invisible spot on the counter. “Did he catch you before you got to the… bedroom?”
“I could have outrun Satan to get away from that glare. Honestly, he’s damned hot when he gets like that, but he’s scary as shit. I just wish I could figure out a way to tap that energy into a little more bed action.”
The slightly cryptic answer did nothing to calm her nerves, but Claire couldn’t bring herself to ask outright if she’d slept with him. When Claudia added a know-it-all grin, the camper suddenly became too small… too stifling. She pulled her red cotton t-shirt over her bare breasts and slipped into the matching patterned sneakers before fleeing to the door, Claudia lecturing in her wake. “I’ll get a few hours’ sleep, so don’t forget to get back here by eleven.”
She’d spent the next two hours wrapped in a blanket on the back deck, desperately trying to make sense of her emotions. He was so perfect. So uniquely tuned to her needs, but he’d literally spent half of their relationship living some sort of twisted, kinky novel plot with her sister. He didn’t even know her real name. Guilt, remorse, confusion, and outright pity had all combined to feed the unwelcome tears until Declan appeared beside her.
With a gentle smile, he’d taken her into his arms, and his promise of a new day with a hint of future plans had settled her emotions. Claudia, her real identity, the whole mess would all have to be revealed to him at some point, but there was no way she could have that conversation snuggled under his chin in front of a spectacular morning sunrise.
Breakfast was a formal affair. While she chatted from the kitchen counter, he made eggs benedict accompanied with an impressive hollandaise sauce, fresh orange juice with a touch of champagne, thick wheat toast, and cut strawberries. Served on an elegant linen tablecloth with crystal and fine china, Claire had never felt so pampered.
It wasn’t until he took care of the last dishes when the almost imperceptible lift of his chin thundered throughout the otherwise quiet room, and the familiar twisting of her erogenous zones blended together to ignite her clit with a shudder. “Geez,” she groaned from her now familiar kitchen stool. “All you have to do is look at me, and I turn into a wanton.”
With a teasing grin, he straddled her knee, his firm inner thighs pressing against her leg. Nibbling slowly along her neck, he worked his way to her shoulder, his hands sliding under her shirt to find her breasts. “A wanton? What century do you live in, again?”
“I read a lot of romance novels,” she admitted with a tiny shrug and a burning blush. “But you gotta stop giving me that look. Or at least warn me before you do.”
“Why the hell would I stop doing that?” he said softly, locating her already hardened nipples with a tiny pinch. “I have a whole playroom full of toys downstairs. Let’s go.”
It wasn’t a question, and Claire had to fight a moment of panic before she reconnected to the trust he’d already earned. Declan would never deliver more than she could handle, but her voice still quivered. “I… I’m a little scared… sir.”
The transition to their game was officially complete, and he pulled her off the stool by her wrists. “Good,” he mumbled. “Let’s keep it that way. Remember, your job is to let me have some fun. If you’re a good little girl, I promise you’ll enjoy yourself. If you’re naughty, well, I can have some fun with that, too.”
Her nervous stomach twisted in protest, and she pulled shyly against his hand as he led her down the hall. She’d noticed the extra-wide, curved stairway to the ground floor as soon as she’d walked into the house over a lifetime earlier, but she’d never had the need to ask where it went. She and Claudia had carefully read the auction brochures listing the cabin amenities, and the extensive dungeon playroom had been well-documented.
Walking past several closed doors, they came to a small room filled with natural light and a fabulous view of the morning sun bouncing off the lake. With only a few waterfowl bobbing for their breakfast, Claire could have easily convinced herself that they were the only two people on the planet and any thoughts of Claudia were pushed aside with a force she barely recognized. “I didn’t think the room would look like this,” she said. “I guess I thought it would be darker, like a real dungeon.”
“There are a lot of rooms down here,” he murmured, kissing the insides of her wrists with a tickle. “And lots of equipment. Some of the rooms are bigger than others, and everybody has their favorite. This happens to be mine. Most of this equipment was handmade by one of our member’s grandparents back in the twenties. I love the quality of the workmanship, but BDSM was a lot more secretive back then, and everything was custom made and carefully preserved.”
A dark, foreboding wooden bench with strange angles and various restraints was clearly the room’s focal point. She couldn’t quite visualize its practice, but it would definitely involve her naked body bound against the leather padding. She nervously backed away from it only to run into a series of ropes hanging from the ceiling, but it was a glass display case filled with intricately woven whips, biting clamps, and frightening paddles that caused her breath to stop. Unable to pro
cess it all, she took another backward step toward the wide staircase.
Declan grabbed her wrist with a smirk. “Wrong way, little girl. You said you were ready to try this, so let’s give it a try. I’ll honor your safeword if you get overwhelmed, but you’re not fragile. Remember?”
Fragility became a very viable emotion, and she dug deep to find it, but his very presence in a room full of sex toys had ignited her clit with a painful ache and a growing wet need. Her vaginal walls spasmed slightly, but her mouth worked in direct contrast with her pussy’s silent demands. “I… I can’t do this. I…” she stuttered, pulling sharply against his ironclad grasp. “Let’s go back upstairs.”
He tapped her chin to focus her gaze on his. “Apprehension is part of the experience. Now, I’m going to strip off your clothes, then you’re going to bend over the bench and display that wet slit to me. I’ll tie you into those restraints so I can play with you any way I want, and by the time I’m done, you’re going to beg me to let you come.”
She nodded numbly, but her verbal agreement clearly wasn’t necessary as he removed her t-shirt to reveal her tingly breasts. His hands ran smoothly along her sides, pulling off her sneakers and sliding her jeans to her floor. When he tickled her erect nipples with his tongue, an undefined jolt shot directly to her clit through some magical network that demanded her entire cognitive focus.
His finger hooked into her panties when he growled, “Where are your hands supposed to be?” She clasped them behind her head and cringed slightly, expecting a firm correction that never came. Instead, he lazily slid his hand into the front of her panties to play with the smooth outer lips before removing her last vestige of clothing to the tiled floor. Firm pressure over her clit relieved a little tension, and a single finger traveled along her wet cleft. “I’d say you’re about ready,” he chuckled. “Get your ass up there and stop stalling.”